


Being Good

by Cherrypie55



Series: Vault Era one shots [7]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Episode AU: s10e06 Extremis, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Episode: s10e06 Extremis, The Vault (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25164922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherrypie55/pseuds/Cherrypie55
Summary: Set during and after S10 ep06 Extremis.A direct continuation from part 6 'Light Amongst the Dark' but as always can be read as a stand alone piece.How did Missy cope with six months left alone? She once built a gun out of leaves so why didn't she just go through that door? Why didn't she leave?Another part in my Vault Era series.
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor/Missy
Series: Vault Era one shots [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702705
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Being Good

Six months. Six months she'd been stuck in here all alone and he just waltzes back in with that _girl_ asking for help! _I should claw his stupid eyes out and make sure he never sees again_ Missy seethed internally. But she didn't _have to be good, good, good girl_ her mind descending into the constant stream of rambling that seemed normal after six months of silence. She acted out the part he wanted, someone to bounce ideas off, to challenge him, help him, even when he brushed aside the girls outrage at him leaving her here alone for all that time with a throw away line about being imprisoned himself. Missy acted as though it were nothing. That it hadn't hurt her right to the very core, that the desperate loneliness hadn't driven her almost as mad as the drums, how she had wished for those drums just to fill the silence inside her mind. Mere minutes they were there before they flounced off to save the world. _What about me?_ Missy screamed inside her mind hoping the Doctor would hear her. The door slammed shut and moments later Missy slammed against it, releasing her rage against the vast metal door. Her fists beat against it again and again as she screamed, she howled and sobbed wanting more than anything for the Doctor to return to her. Eventually she slumped to the floor _he'll come back, he wouldn't leave me, he'll be back just wait, be a good girl and he'll come back_ the mantra she had used almost daily running through her mind. 

“Missy?” the Doctor's voice rousing her from the black depths of her mind.

She opened her eyes a crack and saw him crouched next to her. The solid ground and the aching of her body indicated she was lying on the floor, not that passing out on the ground was uncommon at this point. Missy had tried to keep to her schedule of set meals and sleep times but as the days turned into weeks and neither the Doctor nor the cyborg came, her weekly food package was running low. Sure she had ‘emergency’ food but she was a Time Lady she didn’t need as much as he gave her anyway, besides he'd be back soon. Without the routine of meals, sleep went out of the window as well. So Missy had become somewhat accustomed to just letting her body run until the point of collapse. It's not like anyone was there to tell her otherwise. 

Missy closed her eyes again but opened them in protest as she felt herself be lifted from the ground.

“Get off me, sleeping.” She muttered.

The Doctor placed her down somewhere soft, _my bed_ she thought. She hadn’t used the bed in a while. At first she did, before she realised she'd been left alone, but the memories of the night before the Doctor had left were too strong there. They were happy and Missy didn't want happy. She felt him brush a matted piece of hair away from her face.

“You're exhausted.” He stated.

“Shh. Sleeping now.” Missy whispered.

“Okay rest. I'll be here when you wake up.” The Doctor replied.

Missy just snorted in response. _I'll be here, what a joke._

To Missy's surprise when she awoke the Doctor was sat in a chair next to her bed. Foggy memories of him carrying her to her bed came back to her. She groaned and rolled over not wanting to deal with him, he'd left her for months, months she'd waited for him, _let him wait for a while_ she thought. But to Missy's annoyance he moved and sat behind her on the bed and placed a hand on her shoulder. Since when did the Doctor sit on her bed? Since when did he initiate physical contact? _Since he went blind_ Missy thought, but wait .. she extended her psychic senses just enough to feel the edges of his mind and oh! 

“You can see.” It was a statement rather than a question. Missy's voice horse from all that screaming. 

Missy felt the Doctor's grip tighten on her shoulder as her mind brushed against his but she withdrew as quickly as she had reached out. _Not again_ she thought. The last time she had let him into her mind he had left, it had taken weeks to get used to the silence that was left behind, the lack of another Time Lord’s presence. _Not again_. 

“I brought you some toast, but it's gone cold.” The Doctor's voice seemed so loud after so long in silence.

Missy scoffed at him.

“I put some of that apricot jam you like on it.” Missy could almost hear the smile in his voice.

In spite of herself she turned towards him, head craning to try and catch a glimpse of the jam, she did love that jam it was so nostalgic. Memories of The Scoundrels Club flooded back and Missy grinned, that _had_ been fun. As if he were reading her mind the Doctor produced a plate of toast with apricot jam. Missy heaved herself until she was sat with her back against the headboard and grabbed the plate from him. The Doctor didn’t move, he just stayed sat next to her as she licked the jam from the toast.

“When was the last time you ate?” his voice seemed so concerned it unnerved her. 

She shrugged. “Six months ago.” She replied dryly.

“Missy. Seriously, you're exhausted, you look like you’ve barely eaten I.. I just want to know you’ve been taking care of yourself.” The concern in his voice made her feel sick.

Guilt swirled around inside her so violently the jam threatened to come back out. She staggered from the bed towards the toilet, a hand over her mouth, and slumped in front of it. As Missy retched into the toilet bowl her eyes stung with tears. _He left_ me _! Not the other way around, why do_ I _feel guilty!_ With the contents of her stomach emptied Missy let her face rest on her arms, poised above the bowl but she knew there was nothing more to come out. _I was good, I stayed, I waited._

“It's my fault.” His voice rung out in the small bathroom space “I knew you hadn’t been eating much, the jam was too much for your stomach. I just wanted to give you something you liked.” 

His hand rubbed her back soothingly but Missy shrugged it off.

“Stop being nice to me! Stop acting like you care.” She spat viciously.

“I do care Missy! I was imprisoned by the monks I couldn't risk them finding you!” the Doctor shouted back.

“Shut up!” she answered back.

“I won't shut up! Didn't you say you could leave anytime you want? Why did you stay? Tell me Missy please.” The Doctor's anger turning to almost begging.

And that was it wasn’t it. The big question. Why did she stay? Missy had thought about leaving, she had thought about leaving and coming back before he knew she was gone but in the end the thought of his disappointment stopped her. Her the self proclaimed queen of evil was stopped at the mere thought of the Doctor being disappointed in her. It was pathetic. It was ridiculous. It was ... the truth. She had stayed because it’s what the Doctor would have wanted because, and it hurt her to even think it, it was the right thing to do.

“Being good.” Was what Missy muttered into her arm.

“Missy.” Was all the Doctor replied as he reached out and tucked a wild piece of hair behind her ear. 

She didn’t push him away, this time she leaned into his touch.

“I was good?” she asked, her voice sounding so small and unsure.

“Yes,” he cupped her face and forced her to look at him “you are good.”

Missy let her head fall as he let go of her face. Her eyes stung again, this time in relief that she had done the right thing. _I was good, see I was good, good, good girl._ She didn’t realise she was crying until she felt the Doctor wiping her tears with his thumb. As she looked at him she saw his own eyes were shining and the look on his face was unlike any she had seen all these years in the vault, unlike any she had seen on that face. The last time she had seen that sort of emotion from him was when he was all bones and floppy brown hair begging her, him back then, to regenerate. The Doctor had wanted to imprison her then too, someone to care for he'd said, but she hadn't been ready, she didn’t want him as a friend, she'd just wanted to watch the universe burn. 

The Doctor's hands returned to her face and he placed the gentlest of kisses against her lips. Missy's mind returned to the graveyard, to the last time he had kissed her, when she had thought for just a moment that he had understood her gift, that he understood her, wanted to be her friend. She searched his face, was this a trick too? 

“Come with me?” the Doctor asked, standing up and reaching out his hand to her.

Missy wasn't one to blindly follow anyone, even the Doctor. She dragged herself to her feet ignoring his outstretched hand. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Why?” she asked.

The Doctor stepped back, his hand dropping to his side as he leant against the door frame. 

“I thought you might like a bath.” He said nonchalantly.

He made it sound like the most normal thing in the world. Except Missy didn’t have a bath. She hadn’t bathed since coming to the vault she had only showered. The Doctor had told her once it was in case she tried to drown herself. So why was he offering her a bath now? And where? 

“Why?” she asked again.

“I don't know. You used to go on about how much you wanted one. I don't really understand lying in a tub of your own filth but..” the Doctor's voice trailed off when he saw her glaring at him.

“There's no filth.” she snapped as she ran a hand over her hair.

It’s true she hadn't showered as much as usual since the Doctor had left and her hair had become somewhat matted where she had left it pinned up but she wasn't filthy!

“Where anyway? I don’t have a bath.” Missy asked sulkily.

“I thought you could come onto the Tardis with me.” He replied just as nonchalantly as before.

She had been injured and unconscious during her time in the vault and he had never once let her on-board the Tardis. Never contemplated letting her step foot outside the vault. Misty didn’t understand what had changed but she didn’t want to miss this opportunity. So she swallowed her pride.

“Okay.”

Missy followed in silence as the Doctor led her through the halls of the Tardis. She hated to admit to herself that being outside of the vault made her twitchy. He took her into a large bathroom with a free standing bath in the centre, it all seemed a bit lavish for his tastes so she assumed it was for his .. guests? Companions? Pets? Friends? Missy wasn’t sure what word fit best especially not when it came to her. He turned on the taps for her and turned to leave the room. She wasn't sure why she said it, didn’t even know she was going to until it she heard it fall from her lips.

“Don't go.”

The Doctor paused before turning slowly towards her. His face unreadable. 

“Okay.” He said, almost mirroring her earlier statement of resignation.

As Missy looked around the room a shelf caught her eye, it had various bottles on it, bath products from across the galaxy. They were all partially used, some more than others, indicating the previous occupants of this bathrooms favourites. Running her finger along the labels Missy picked out one filled almost completely with a pearlescent milky liquid. She poured the whole bottle into the running water. She avoided looking at the Doctor, she knew he was standing awkwardly near the door, could feel him there. Being out of the vault her senses were on overdrive, she could feel each second passing, feel the Tardis cautiously humming, the rotation of the Earth. After so long with her senses dulled it was overwhelming. Missy gripped the side of the bath to steady herself. 

“Are you okay?” the Doctor asked, stepping forward and turning off the taps to the bath.

“Fine.” She replied sharply.

He was giving her that concerned look again. She hated that look. Didn't know what it meant or how to act. So she ignored him. Missy unbuttoned her purple jacket and laid it over the chair that was beside the bath. She began to unbutton her white blouse when the Doctor grabbed her arm roughly.

“Get off.” Missy exclaimed as she struggled, unsure of what he was doing.

“You're bleeding.” He said as he nodded towards the arm he was holding.

“No, I’m not it’s fine.” She replied tugging her arm out of his grasp.

“There's blood all over your shirt Missy.” The Doctor countered.

Missy looked down at the bloodstained sleeve of her blouse. “It's not my fault I didn’t have access to a washing machine.” 

“Why were you bleeding in the first place?” he asked.

She sighed and unbuttoned the rest of her blouse and tore it off, throwing it in the direction of her jacket. 

“Six months.” She offered as way of explanation, holding out her arm.

The Doctor took her arm again, gently this time, one hand underneath her elbow the other lightly traced the six scratches etched into her skin. 

“Why?” he asked looking up at her face. His mind reaching out to gently caress her own. 

Missy slammed her mental shields up, much stronger outside of the vault.

“I can’t.. I.. it’s hard, in there, to keep track. Days, weeks, months it all blurs I can't keep time straight in my head. I had to keep track. It’s not like I've got access to pens and paper that’s _too dangerous_.” Missy rambled. 

“Six months.” The Doctor repeated, once again running his thumb across each partially healed wound. 

“Give or take. Like I said it’s hard to keep track.” Missy said curtly. 

She pulled her arm back again and finished undressing. The Doctor obviously didn't know it wasn’t polite to watch a lady get undressed, either that or he didn’t care as he didn’t turn away while she did so. She climbed into the bath of milky water and sank deep into it, only her head visible above the water. Missy reached up and began unpinning her hair.

“If you’re just going to stand there you might as well help.” She told the Doctor.

He just stared at her for a moment before starting into action, he moved behind her and began removing the pins from her hair, delicately untangling and extracting them. Missy hadn’t expected him to actually do it. His hands in her hair seemed strangely intimate. 

“There shouldn’t be anything in the vault you can do that with.” The Doctor said indicating the scratches on her arm.

Missy stopped pulling pins out of her hair and held her arms straight out in front of her, wiggling her fingers slightly.

“Haven't had my weekly manicure dear.” She said before letting her arms submerge under the water, letting the Doctor continue with her hair alone.

Once her hair was released Missy sank down completely under the water, just her nose and mouth sticking out because despite what the Doctor seemed to think she didn’t want to drown herself. 

They stayed there together long after the bath water had gone cold. The Doctor had recounted the events of the last six months to her and in spite of herself Missy found herself listening intently. Eventually the story was over and the Doctor stood up from his spot on the chair near the bath. He opened a cupboard and got out an oversized fluffy towel, in Tardis blue of course. _How on brand_ Missy thought with a smirk. 

“Come on, you'll catch a cold lying in cold water this long.” The Doctor said holding out the towel to her.

“Time Lady.” She responded rolling her eyes “Do we even catch colds?”

To prove her point Missy stood up in the bath facing the Doctor, hands on her hips. Her hair was now untangled and hung half way down her back, as she reached up to squeeze the excess water from it she locked eyes with him. This time he had the decency to blush slightly and avert his eyes that had been staring straight at her. The Doctor cleared his throat and held the towel up for her to take. Missy smirked stepping out of the bath and standing in front of him expectantly. She raised an eyebrow at him. She felt much more like herself now and teasing the Doctor was one of her favourite pastimes. He gave in first. He held the towel outstretched for her to step into, as he wrapped it around her she leaned in towards him.

“Thank you dear.” She whispered in his ear.

Stepping back Missy continued “So, back to the vault now is it?”

As much as she had enjoyed her outing she knew it couldn’t last.

“You should probably stay for a bit.” he said, shrugging as she shot him a confused look. “Those clothes need to go in the wash anyway you might as well wait.”

Again he made it sound like nothing.

So Missy sat curled up in a chair in the library cradling a cup of hot chocolate in her hands while she waited for her clothes to wash and dry. The hot chocolate was bitter and she swore she could feel the Tardis laugh at her. But Missy only smiled. The Tardis might not like her but the Doctor.. well he might just be coming around. 


End file.
